


Self Care

by Bulletproof_love



Series: PTSD!Mouse [5]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasizing, Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, Masturbation, Mild Sexual Content, NSFW, Not Beta Read, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, References to Depression, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Content, Sexual Dysfunction, Sexual Fantasy, Sleep, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 19:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17310227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulletproof_love/pseuds/Bulletproof_love
Summary: Mouse has a feeling he has't experienced in a long time.





	Self Care

In his dreams it was perfect, they were perfect. His palms skating over those solicitous curves, fingers stroking over that pretty flesh as he kissed those pert pink lips of hers. Her scent was in his nostrils, that unique soft scent of ylang-ylang from the Estee Lauder perfume that she always wore. He treasured that fragrance, it flooded him like an aphrodisiac as the sound of her needy whimpers echoed in his ears as he drove her to completion...

Mouse woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring in his ear. He groaned out loud, his face buried in his plush pillow as he lay on his stomach, stirring underneath his plaid sheets. To his surprise he was hard, painfully hard. His hand shot out, flailing for his phone. His nimble fingers skimmed across the lock screen, silencing the alarm before he rolled onto his back. His forearm came up to cover his eyes, shielding them away from the ray of sunlight that was streaming through the open blinds.

Last night he had slept. For the first time he had made it through the night without any nightmares, he had woken up somewhat peacefully without that huge pressure constricting his chest. He gazed down at the tented sheet with the edges of his mouth twitching up, and apparently with a throbbing erection. He’d lost track of how long it had been since that had actually happened.

Sexual dysfunction was a common symptom of PTSD. Mouse had been surprised to learn that more than eighty percent of male vets reported to have suffered from it and he hated to admit that he was one of them. There wasn’t anything physically wrong with him in that respect, popping a blue pill didn’t help when the problem was all in your head.

The truth was it was hard to connect with people when he had gotten back, it had taken over a year to forge any type of meaningful relationship with anyone, if he didn’t count Jay. He’d withdrawn completely, locking down most of his emotions because he simply didn’t want to feel anymore. He enjoyed the numbness, it was better than the constant fear and anguish he endured on a daily basis. Those times when he couldn’t block them out, he self-medicated.

It was only lately he had allowed himself to open up. With Jay’s help and therapy, he had begun to open up. He talked more now, he laughed, he shared his experiences with people who he deemed his friends, who thought of him the same way. His fear of intimacy, of being close to other people had started to subside and he had actually started to look forward to social events. He was back to being an active participant in his life instead of someone who simply let it pass him by.

His cock was still throbbing, seemly making up for lost time instead of losing momentum the way he had expected it to after a couple of minutes. His skin was still sensitive, pricking with desire as he allowed his fingertips to trail down his bare chest until his hand dipped under the sheets. He hadn’t felt like this in such a long time.

The thrill of anticipation vibrated through him. It was stronger than he remembered, like a heat tearing through him as his hand slipped under the waistband of his sweatpants engulfing his leaking cock.

He moaned out loud at the sensation, his eyes closing as his head tipped back to the pillow. He thought of Charlie again, of her fingers threading in his hair as he kissed his way down her sensuous form. He imagined how wet she would be from his teasing; how good she would taste against his mouth, the noises she would make when he sucked at her clit before fucking her with his tongue.

The orgasm was like a tidal wave rushing through every single one of his synapses as he thrust into his hand once more. The moan from his throat was guttural, coming from a deviant place, deep down inside of him that he had long forgotten. It seemed to last a lifetime, that glorious pleasure coursing through his body like a wildfire until he was left spent, twisted up amongst his sheets, the sound of his own ragged breathing resounding through the room.

Fuck, he thought as he sunk back into his pillows. If that was all in his head what the hell would the real thing be like?

 

 

 


End file.
